


Micros 3: Broca Divide

by Joy



Series: Micros [3]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M, episode tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25486309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joy/pseuds/Joy
Summary: Reminder: This series is canon, BUT I've advanced the timeline so that Stargate SG-1 began in 2010, not 1997.  I did this so I could take advantage of smartphone and other tech improvements in communication and general culture.
Relationships: Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill
Series: Micros [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843249
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	Micros 3: Broca Divide

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder: This series is canon, BUT I've advanced the timeline so that Stargate SG-1 began in 2010, not 1997. I did this so I could take advantage of smartphone and other tech improvements in communication and general culture.

Daniel could finally see why Jack wanted to hit things when he was upset. Sort of. But he didn’t want to hit in the traditional sense. He wanted to … have sex. Hard, mindless sex.

He swallowed convulsively and broke the pencil he’d been holding. He made a fist around the broken halves and clenched harder, wanting to break the damn thing into kindling. He didn’t have the strength in one hand, and it ticked him off.

Startled by the intensity of his emotions, he suddenly deflated and bent over, knocking his forehead against his office desktop several times.

The person in his head, the one he’d pictured, was Jack.

A few times, he’d had micro-seconds where he’d allowed himself to think, ‘nice ass’ or ‘nice back.’ Or he’d wonder what he’d look like during … Then he’d dismiss the thought before it could manifest anything else and he’d move on to some other appropriate thought.

Then Jack had punched him several times, jealous over Sam.

_Sam._

Daniel went through a bit of melancholy for about half that day, but it was compartmentalized while he’d had more stable thoughts on the forefront.

Then he’d been infected.

And now, he wanted to …

Janet had said this would happen. Had warned him. Even though he had his medication, there were lingering urges.

Everyone had been sent home. Except he didn’t go. He couldn’t abide the thought of being alone, because it gave him too much freedom. Here on the base, his thoughts were, had been, held in check. At home, his fractured libido might make him venture out, which made zero sense. He wasn’t someone who needed that sort of company.

“Hey,” said Jack.

Daniel jumped, ground his teeth. He should have closed the door. He’d been telling himself to do it for the last hour but had side-tracked himself instead with all those damn _urges._

He gave him an oblique look with gritted teeth. “Hey.”

Jack grew a little worried. “What’s wrong?”

“Guess.”

“Couldn’t possib…” Jack narrowed his eyes. “Ah. The after-effects.”

“You too?” Daniel asked, sliding down in his seat to both cover his, uh, attention zone, and to try and ignore it. It made no sense. He wasn’t himself.

“Sort of. Don’t really need to get into it.” Jack cleared his throat. “Yeah, you know the rest.”

“I do.”

It was Jack’s turn to read him correctly. “Wanna hit something?”

“Not … precisely.” Daniel didn’t want to look at him. “I’m really, _really_ not good company, Jack. Go find someone else to play with.”

“What’s this?” Jack asked, grabbing the hand with the broken pencil … bits.

Daniel opened his hand and deposited them in Jack’s with a wondering look. He hadn’t felt them break up. He breathed out a snort. “I am off my game.” He paused. “A phrase I’ve never used and will never use again.”

Jack grinned. “Since we’ve all been knocked stupid by that damn virus, I’d say we’re all off our game.”

“Yeah, but I’m …”

Jack’s grin grew impish. “Special?”

Daniel’s laugh was derisive. “Yeah right.” He brushed the pencil bits into the trash.

“C’mon.”

“Where?” Daniel asked resignedly. He really wasn’t in the mood to hit the gym.

“C’mon home. I’ll make dinner. Or order it.”

“No,” Daniel asked, closing his eyes. Bad idea, he thought. The temptation was too great.

“Afraid of getting into a fight?”

Another derisive snort with short guffaw to follow it. “Not in the slightest.”

“Then c’mon. If you wanna fight, I have boxing gloves.”

“Nope,” Daniel said crisply. “I am not in the mood.”

“But you wanna hit something,” Jack teased.

Daniel was going to answer, but he clamped his mouth shut. The answer would lead to revelations that would put a strain between them. Hell, he’d never even _done that_ , and yet he wanted to. And Jack was …

Daniel sat up slightly but only to drop his head in folded arms over the desk. “Go away.”

“No. Come on. You need to get out of here. Expel that stuff elsewhere.” He tugged at Daniel’s arm.

Daniel froze. “Jack, let go. I mean it.”

Jack had read him wrong. He thought that Daniel just needed coaxing. He closed the door and sat down in the chair by the desk. “Okay. I’m gonna do this.”

“Do what?” asked Daniel in a muffled voice.

“Ask you to talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Daniel frowned and raised his head to look at him. “Look, I know you’re doing your commander-leader thing but this is personal and—”

“It’s me, not the Colonel speaking,” Jack said awkwardly.

Daniel frowned at him and sighed. “You don’t do personal.”

Jack made a face. “I’m expanding my horizons. Or something. Take advantage of it.”

A very specific image ran through Daniel’s mind like a flasher and he squeezed his eyes shut, whiting out his mind with noise. “You know what’s wrong. The after-effects. I can’t be around anyone.”

“Anyone?” Jack pushed.

“You.” Daniel colored as he said.

An idea occurred to Jack and he didn’t know how to feel about it. He had almost convinced himself to ignore his feelings. Then that damn virus happened. And now he was confused. His go-to response had been Carter, but later, he’d wanted Daniel the moment he’d heard that the man had been taken.

Daniel abruptly got up and thought to pace the room, but he’d have to walk around Jack to do it. Fine then. A _wide_ walk around Jack. He began and Jack followed him with his eyes, brows rising in amused surprise.

“What’re you doing?” Jack asked.

“Moving.”

“Well then,” Jack said, and stood. “As long as you’re up, get your keys. We’re going.”

Daniel stopped, his back to him, and stood there resignedly. “Why?”

“Because I said so.”

Daniel half-laughed. “You … No, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

Jack reached for his arm, but Daniel whirled around and backed up several steps to keep Jack from touching him again. Jack’s brows rose again. “I told you, dammit,” Daniel murmured. “Not good to be around. As I said. If you touch me …” He grimaced and held his hands over his eyes. “God. Interpret that however you wish. I don’t care.”

“Come home with me anyway. We’ll figure something out.”

Daniel dropped his hands and stared at the man. Jack stood there, seemingly holding his breath.

“You’re serious,” Daniel said in a soft voice.

Jack eyed him. “About?”

“Don’t do that,” Daniel replied, narrowing his eyes. “I’ll walk over and hit you, I swear to God.”

Jack went for the door. “We’re leaving. I’ll somehow refrain from touching you.”

Daniel growled under his breath. “I doubt it.” And his cheeks became enflamed. Again.

. . . . .

The minute Daniel closed the door behind him, Jack wanted to turn and kiss him. Just grab him around the neck with one arm and pull him in, trap him so he couldn’t get away. But he didn’t. He second-guessed himself, holding back. He gave Daniel a look that might have had some of that intent broadcasting away as he turned to go into the kitchen.

“Fuck you and that look,” Daniel whispered as he grabbed Jack’s arm and spun him around. He threw his arms around his neck and shoulders, held him tightly, and planted his lips on Jack’s. They immediately opened to him.

The thrill of the kiss, their senses registering whisker stubble and day-long sweat, magnified the craving they held. And Daniel realized it wasn’t that he wanted to fuck someone hard. He wanted to _be_ fucked hard. And yet he had no idea how to go about it—other than the general logistics of it.

The kiss went on forever and when it broke apart, Jack took his hand and began to lead him down the hall, walking backward. “We can stop this,” he said.

Daniel slowed. “I don’t want to, but if that’s what you …”

Jack gave Daniel a searching look. “Listen, have you ever …”

“Been with a man?” Daniel finished. “I’ve … fantasized …” Jack raised a brow. “No. You?”

“Not all the way.”

Daniel thought of what ‘all the way’ meant and groaned. “I need that.”

“All the way?” Jack asked. His own cheeks pinked up just thinking of it.

Daniel swallowed and nodded. In the bedroom, he pulled off his two shirts. He smelled Jack’s sweat, then his own. He loved them. But he should offer anyway. “Maybe a shower first? Sweat.”

“No,” Jack said, removing his jacket and shirt. He stepped closer. “You?”

Daniel met him and they each began to unbuckle each other’s trousers. Daniel inhaled and the scent of Jack was overwhelmingly _male._ He groaned. “No.”

Jack kissed him again, hard, taking him completely into his arms. The talking was done. No more delays, Jack thought, and led him to the bedroom, all the while, the kissing continued. He didn’t want to break contact of any kind.

Daniel agreed.

And when the clothes were off and skin met skin, the response was frantic, the utter need for _friction._ The lube was there in the drawer, along with condoms. Daniel wondered why, felt insane jealousy, then ignored it. Hands went exploring even as he opened himself beneath Jack, encouraging him with spread legs and upward thrusts. The burn was annoying, distracting, but it turned into a heat he needed.

Jack couldn’t get enough of the _feel_ of him and knew the orgasms would be too soon. That was alright though since he knew this wouldn’t be the only time. In fact, he wanted to make a habit of it. When they were done, Daniel whispered to him.

Jack whispered back.

Yes. They were on the same page. This was definitely not over.

. . .

End


End file.
